Who Knew?
by Child of the Wilderness
Summary: Who knew Elphaba could feel so much, express so much? Galinda hoped this openness Elphie had developed in the agony of her arranged engagement would remain once she learned the truth.
1. As If

_AN: I mention "last year's tragedy"—this will be explained in future chapters. _

_This chapter is _mostly_ letters from Madame Morrible to various concerned characters; this is needed to set up the story, but I promise more action in future chapters. The scene at the beginning is taken from _As If By Magic_ which was replaced by _Something Bad_. It takes place shortly before Dillamond's arrest and the lion cub scene. I didn't include the end of the song because there is a confrontation that wouldn't fit within the cannon of this story. _

* * *

There was silence in the lab, as Dr. Dillamond, Fiyero, and Elphaba stared at their creation.

"Crystalization?" Elphaba asked, her voice as shaky as the experiments the three had been conducting.

"Dear Oz, I can't believe it, can it be . . . we've really done it!"

"Looks like you have," Fiyero said, almost laughing.

"But . . . how?" Elphaba murmured.

"It must have been . . ." Fiyero began, touching Elphaba's hand.

"The heat of our hands," they whispered together. A warm, brown blush crept across Elphaba's cheeks and Fiyero grinned.

"Children, no matter now, who could have imagined when this night began, we'd see the success of our plan . . ."

"As if by magic," Elphaba breathed.

"As if by magic," Fiyero repeated, staring at the green girl beside him.

Fiyero twirled Elphaba in a makeshift waltz around the lab table as Madame Morrible, unseen by the three scientists, snuck away from the window where she had been watching. Fortunately, she didn't stay to see the toast: it would have been one more reason to condemn Dr. Dillamond, corrupting the students as he so clearly was.

"Damn that girl and her affection for the old goat," Morrible muttered.

Already, Elphaba was disappointing. Her power was a hundred times what Morrible had hoped, after that first demonstration, but her will was strong and her morals stronger. Elphaba was—in a word—a failure. The green girl's honesty and compassion would keep her tied to the world the Wizard wanted to disappearate: the _old_ Oz, with its Animals and freedom. Morrible was forming new plans for Elphaba Thropp . . . .

_Dear Sir and Lady Tiggular—_Morrible wrote, smiling smugly. This would knock Miss Elphaba Thropp off her high horse.

_I pray this letter is not too bold. In the aftermath of last year's tragedy, it has come to my attention that you are searching for a bride for Master Fiyero Tiggular. My humble opinion is that his choice—Miss Galinda Upland—is merely hunting for the title of Princess. However, Master Fiyero has found a friend and tutor in the studious Miss Elphaba Thropp. She is the daughter of the Eminent Thropp of Munchkinland, and therefore of the proper status for Master Fiyero's bride. _

_Unfortunately, Miss Elphaba rooms with Miss Galinda and is sensitive to her friend's feelings: she cares deeply for Master Fiyero, that much is obvious, but she will not "steal" him from her flighty friend._

_Perhaps you, as Master Fiyero's parents, may remedy the situation and rid yourselves of the fortune-seeking Miss Galinda in favor of Master Fiyero's dear friend, Miss Elphaba. _

_Yours, _

_Madame Morrible_

_Head Mistress, Shiz University _

As Elphaba and Fiyero whispered their goodnights, both pretending parting didn't hurt, the headmistress formed their future for them.

_Your Ozness,_

_Please accept my sincere apologies in the situation surrounding Miss Elphaba. She is truly a magical wonder—in all my years, I've never seen such power—but twined with her power is strength of will even I cannot master without breaking her beyond repair and beyond usefulness. Miss Galinda Upland, despite her lesser powers, will make a wonderful substitute. I am training her as we speak. If all goes according to plan, Miss Elphaba will soon have other matters to occupy her mind and will no longer be free to join you, were it still your wish that she come. I have destroyed your invitation. Have no fear—none will ever know it existed. _

_Your Servant, _

_Morrible _

The letters were posted—via owls—from the main office of Shiz University. On the west side of campus, both Fiyero and Elphaba sat in their dorms, lonely and thoughtful. Fiyero's lights glowed warmly, barely showing through his thick curtains—but the owls noticed. Elphaba lay shrouded in darkness, itching to lose herself in a book and forget Fiyero but unwilling to wake her sleeping roommate. The owls did not notice her, but if they had they would have seen something few mortals ever have: Elphaba Thropp was crying. The high of a successful evening in the lab had burst and left her longing for a boy she could never have, a boy she could never admit to loving.

"There's a girl I know, he loves her so . . . I'm not that girl," she whispered to the stars. The owls did not hear her.


	2. Announcements, Avoidance, and Anger

_Three Weeks After "As If . . ."_

* * *

"Fiyeroooo!"

Galinda's shriek shook Fiyero from his thoughts and he sighed. His girlfriend had officially won their hide-and-seek war; she had found him, and now he had to tell her; he had to explain without really explaining, because Elphie didn't know yet.

"What, Galinda?" Fiyero sighed as he extricated himself from his hiding place beneath Shiz's only bridge.

"It's Elphie! She's modified and horrificated and I don't know what to doooo!"

"Oh. Well, what do you need me for?" Fiyero asked. _She knows_, he thought, _and this is not going to be pretty. _

"I need you to come wiiith me, silly. You can help me cheeeer her up."

"Uh, Galinda, I really don't think Elphaba wants to see me right now."

"That's silly! She always wants to see yooouu!" Galinda twirled across the bridge, utterly contented with her ongoing solution to Elphie's moodifications: produce Fiyero.

"Who doesn't want to see me?" Fiyero retorted dryly, with a vague thought that his words—and tone—befitted Elphaba more than his old, happy-go-lucky self.

"True. Now come on!"

Fiyero found himself being dragged to see the girl who would probably murder him very, very soon.

Elphaba lay facedown on her austere bed, her black hair a half-braided tangle and her glasses discarded on the shelf above her. A book lay in the center of the room as if it had been flung there by a disgusticified and distracted reader. There were scorch marks on the ceiling, clearly the aftermath of a born sorceress' frustration. Fiyero wondered, briefly, how long those scorch marks had been there.

"Elphie. Won't you get up and eat something?" Galinda suggested gently.

Elphaba shook her head, her face still buried in the pillow.

Fiyero settled on the edge of her bed, careful not to touch her—not to provoke more scorch marks on something less repairable than the ceiling.

"Elphaba, what's wrong?" he asked, though he already knew.

"Are you two going to leave me be?" Elphaba asked with a sniffle. It was suddenly clear to Fiyero that she'd been crying. Galinda guessed ages ago, but hadn't wanted to upset her sensitive roommate by asking.

"Not until you tell us what's wrooong," Galinda trilled.

"Fine. Read it, I don't care," Elphaba muttered and thrust a crumpled sheet of parchment into the nearest set of hands—Fiyero's. He smoothed the letter and began to read:

_Elphaba—_

_As you know, your chances in this world are rather slim unless you find some use for that horrendible black magick you study at school, you will be my responsibility until I die and then your keep shall fall on your poor sister. In light of these unfortunate facts, I have taken it upon myself to arrange your future. You will not return to school in the fall. I have signed a marriage contract and am in negotiations with the University to hire your sister a competent caretaker who will shame her less than you have done. You will marry a month before the harvest so your sister and I may oversee that blessed event._

_Your father, _

_Eminent Thropp of Munchkinland. _

"Sweet Oz," Fiyero breathed. She _didn't _know.

"Oh, Elphie!" Galinda pounced on her roommate, wrapping her arms around the reluctant girl's shoulders, "I'm going to miss you!"

Fiyero edged away from the heap of crying, hugging femininity on Elphaba's bed. He knew, now, there was no way he could reveal his knowledge to either girl without the other discoverating; he couldn't break up with Galinda without Elphaba knowing why, and couldn't comfort Elphaba without breaking up with Galinda. Why was life so complicated? He tucked Elphaba's letter into his pocket where it rubbed against his parents' announcement:

_Dearest Fiyero_, they had written—

_We realized you were rather shaken when Sarima was condemned to die when she broke the treaty we signed when you were both babies. We knew you felt the unfairness of the ancient laws, so we decided to let the matter of your marriage sit for awhile. However, we have finally chosen a new bride for you. We believe—and hope—the news will be well received by you, especially as the lady is one with whom you are acquainted. Her name is Elphaba Thropp. You will be married in late summer._

_Love from your parents. _

Fiyero had been so busy hiding from Galinda—and Elphaba—that he hadn't had time to take stock of his own feelings. As he stood watching the girls cry at their imminent separation, he realized that he didn't feel as sorry as he probably should. Galinda was beautiful, and they looked good in the OzBlast photos . . . but there was something missing in their perfect romance, and Fiyero had found himself hanging around Elphaba. Now, given no choice between the two girls, he couldn't find the disappointment he expected at the loss of Galinda.

He could only feel a hesitant excitement, a nervous anticipation, at the idea of having Elphaba for the rest of their lives. Now, if only he could make everything work without making both girls hate him.

* * *

_AN: Should I continue?_


	3. Kisses and Tears

_AN: I changed the genre from humor to drama. There will definitely be amusing parts to this story (I wrote the last lines before I even thought out the plot, and they should leave you laughing) but I'm not sure this qualifies as humor._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Wicked, or anything else I may have referenced (cyber hot cocoa to anyone who catches the other reference).  
_

_

* * *

_

"It's over, Galinda," Fiyero announced one morning—quite out of the blue, as far as his pretty girlfriend was concerned.

"What's over, dearest?" she asked, half-suspecting and entirely unwilling to believe he meant to break off the most perfect relationship since . . . since Oz began.

"We are—I just can't do this anymore. I'm not in love with you. I don't know if I ever was." It was true; it just wasn't the whole truth. Fiyero couldn't reveal the entire truth to Galinda until he found an opportune moment to explain to his fiancée that she was, indeed, his fiancée. Galinda couldn't have kept that huge a secret if her life depended on it.

Galinda did not deign to reply. She stormed to her room where she collapsed in a heap of tears and running makeup and pink tulle.

The blonde's devotees were aghast. It was perfectly horrendible of Fiyero to end things with Galinda just before exam week, when Shiz actually _enforced_ its no-drinking, no-partying rules. How could any self-respecting girl be expected to lose the romance of the century and _not_ drown her sorrows, if only for a little while?

* * *

Elphaba, lost in the pages of a book, still knew nothing of Fiyero and Galinda's breakup when the former settled on the arm of her overstuffed chair—the chair _no one_ had _ever_ found her in, when she wanted to be hiding.

"Sweet Oz, who do you think you are, disturbing me _here_?" she asked, barely glancing away from her book.

"Last I checked, I was Fiyero Tiggular . . . your friend. And I want to talk to you," he answered.

"Really? Why in Oz would you want to even _look_ at me, much less carry on a conversation with me?"

Fiyero heard the sarcasm first, but it was too bitter like coffee brewed too hot.

"Because you're beautiful, and passionate, and interesting," Fiyero answered honestly.

"Honestly, Fiyero, I was meant that! Do you even know how to be serious?" Elphaba shot him a half-mocking glare and whispered her last sentence, seriously: "Please, just leave me alone. I need—I need to be alone."

Fiyero decided to leave the insult alone. "No, you don't need to be alone. You need to talk about it. You're scared."

"Am not," Elphaba replied, but she sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

"Elphaba—" Fiyero began, but he lost his thoughts when she looked up at him with tears glistening in her dark eyes. Instead of explaining as he'd intended, he leaned down and kissed her—kissed her like he'd wanted to since the night he twirled her around Dr. Dillamond's lab. He felt her lips part against his and then she jerked away.

"Fiyero!" Elphaba cried, nearly knocking him off the chair when she leapt out of it, "Oz, don't make this harder than it already is!"

"I should tell you . . ." he whispered. Elphaba stopped. She'd heard him. Maybe, just maybe, she'd give him a chance to explain. "I should tell you . . ." he tried again, louder. Elphaba shook her head and marched away.

* * *

Galinda and Elphaba both cried themselves to sleep that night—nearly silently, nearly unnoticed by the other, and entirely unbeknownst to the rest of Shiz. Most of the other students had lesser concerns on their minds. Only one was as occupied as his ex-girlfriend and his current, unaware fiancée.

Fiyero stood at his window for a long time that night, wishing he could see the girls and apologize to both of them. He suspected the tears that were being shed in their shared room, suspected that he was the cause of them. Sweet Oz, he'd never intended to hurt them. If his parents hadn't meddled—and he was immensely thankful they had—he probably would have gone along his merry way and stayed with Galinda, ignoring his love for Elphaba. If Elphaba's father had been forthright with her, had taken the time to tell her who she would marry that summer, he could have broken things off with Galinda in a less unexpected way. Instead, the tasks of breaking up with his girlfriend and telling his fiancée she was engaged to him had fallen at Fiyero's feet. He felt quite unprepared to handle such a situation.


	4. Best Friends Don't

Elphaba brushed the tangles out of her hair, washed her face, and wandered to her last class with Dr. Dillamond. It was a tragic day.

Galinda spent almost an hour covering imagined tear tracks with extra-perfect makeup—after all, her devotees would expect her to _look_ good, even if she was in mourning—and missed her first class. It was not an unprecedented, and definitely not a tragic event. Galinda thought it was horrendible of the school to expect her to attend classes after being dumped by the most scandalicious prince in Shiz history.

Fiyero attended Dr. Dillamond's class with Elphaba—a rather disturbing habit he'd developed, ever since the three achieved crystallization. If he really thought about it, Fiyero would have realized he'd been attending his classes for awhile now, and all because of his mysterious green fiancée, but he didn't think about it. His followers were rather worried. True, Fiyero wasn't _thinking about_ or _admitting_ attending class—but he was attending, and that was infinitely worse. The happy-go-lucky, dancing-through-life prince who had captured their attention was actually passing every single class in which he was enrolled. He had been seen studying. He had been seen studying _with the Artichoke_. He didn't smile as much as he had. He had broken up with the girl of the century . . . in short: Prince Fiyero Tiggular was turning into a rather serious student, a moodified shadow of his former playboy self, and was refusing to talk about anything that used to interest him.

* * *

"Hey, Elphie," Fiyero greeted the green girl as he sat next to her.

"Hello," she answered, barely glancing up from her notes.

"So . . . I wanted to say I'm sorry about last night. I got carried away."

"By what, missing Galinda twenty minutes after you broke up with her?"

"Oh. You heard."

"_Of course_ I heard. Fiyero, she's my roommate for Oz sakes. Did you really think I wouldn't know?"

"I guess not. Are you going to stop speaking to me now?"

Elphaba, for once, looked a little nonplussed.

"Why would I do that?"

"Well, I think the entire female population of Shiz—except you—has given me the cold shoulder this morning. Apparently breaking up with Galinda is unacceptable behavior."

"Oh, so that's why you're speaking to me where people can see. You're lonely. Poor little Fiyero, deserted by his cheering fans."

"Elphaba! That's not fair. I talk to you all the time where people can see."

"So what was that library stunt yesterday? You came where _no one_ could possibly find you conversing with the green freak."

"I wanted to talk to you. Oz, Elphie, since when is it a sin to want to be with you?"

"Since I'm getting married," she whispered, and turned her attention to the front of the class.

Fiyero spent the class period paying attention to Elphaba rather than the instructor. He noticed the slight swelling around her eyes and the faint pinkness at their rims, less obvious against her enthralling emerald skin than on the paler faces of other girls he'd known. He sighed. She wouldn't talk to him without fighting with him, he hadn't told Galinda the whole truth, and they only had a week before they would disperse to their respective homes. A week to tell Elphaba she didn't have to worry about her wedding, a week to tell her she could come back to Shiz with him, a week to explain everything to his ex-girlfriend. It was going to be a short week.

* * *

The girls' dorm room was not a pleasant place that night.

"I heard you were speaking to someone this morning," Galinda announced flatly.

"What? Am I not allowed to talk to him?" Elphaba asked. Her hands shook with frustration. Why could no one see how nonsensical this was?

"You're my _best friend_, Elphie. Best friends don't associate with ex-boyfriends."

"Galinda, you can't ask me to just ignore him. He's the only other friend I have. You're wonderful and sweet and I love you . . . but I don't want to follow you like one of your devotees. They annoy even you sometimes."

"No, they don't. If you have to talk to him, could you at least do it where no one else can see you? It's having a horrificifying effect on our reputations, you know."

"Glin . . ." Elphaba sighed "fine, you know what? I'll do that. It's only for a week, and then I'll be gone."

"Oh Elphie!" Galinda sobbed and launched herself at her roommate, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Can't—breathe—Glin!" Elphaba gasped.

"I'm going to miiiiiisss youuuu," the blonde wailed, loosening her stranglehold on her roommate.

"I'll miss you, my pretty," Elphaba said, "but it's not like we'll never see each other again. I'm sure my husband will let me have guests occasionally."

"Am I invited to the wedding?" Galinda asked, wiping her tears and mascara away.

"You're _in_ the wedding, silly."

"Really?" Galinda pirouetted around the room and finally flopped on her bed, "That's so excitifying! I've never been in a wedding before!"

"Neither have I," Elphaba answered dryly, "and I certainly hope this is my last."

"Oh come, Elphie! Don't be such a sourpuss. It can't be that bad, can it? I mean, you're getting marrieeed!"

"I don't even know _who_ I'm marrying, Glin. He'll probably hate me."

"He'll loooove you!"

"Glin, I'm a green freak. How can he love me? He's not going to see me for _who_ I am, the way you do, he's going to see me for _what_ I am . . . like every other boy I've ever met. He's going to see me as an ugly artichoke."

"Fiyero doesn't see you that way."

Elphaba blushed, remembering the brief kiss she'd shared with Fiyero.

"He's different. He got to know me because of you, and suspended his judgments about my beauty, or lack thereof."

"If Fiyero can do it . . . so can your husband."

"I don't think it works that way. My husband is stuck with me, Fiyero isn't. I don't think he'll be able to see past the greenness . . . "

"Well, I doooo! Don't spoil my fuuun! We'll make you so beautiful he doesn't even _notice_ that you're green."

"Sure . . . whatever you say, Galinda."


	5. Social Rules

If Elphaba emerged from her dorm the weekend before Finals, no one saw her. Galinda refused to tell anyone where her roommate was—out of consideration for the tears Elphie was shedding over schoolwork, something Galinda thought wasn't worth crying over. That left two very frustrated people hunting the green girl very unsuccessfully. Nessa needed to impart dreadfully important information about their departure; Fiyero needed to convey terribly significant information about their wedding.

Nessa was fated to be more successful than Fiyero—mostly because Galinda wouldn't speak to Fiyero, but held no grudge against her roommate's sister. Still, Finals were upon them before Nessa found Elphaba.

* * *

"When is your last exam?" Nessa asked.

"Thursday afternoon," Elphaba answered, absently, staring at her book. Then she glanced at her sister—the sister who had never cared about her schedule before "Why?"

"Father is sending a carriage. We're to leave Friday at sunrise."

"Oh, that does sound wonderful."

"Fabala, stop being so . . . so sarcastic. You know you can't keep that up once you're married."

"So I'm getting it out of my system now. You're the lucky girl who has to handle it. You and Galinda."

"And Fiyero. You've been spending a lot of time with him lately," Nessa retorted "What's with you two, anyway? Is he a fling before you're stuck with whoever Father picked?"

"No! He's my _friend_, Nessa. A word you would do well to know. Have you any friends?"

"Of course I do. Anyway, how can you be friends with your roommate's ex-boyfriend? It isn't _done_."

"Oh, is that what this is about? Have I shamed the family by spending time with someone socially unacceptable?"

"Not the family. Me. I'm the one who has to live with the aftermath of your reputation here. You can't just sit quietly and act like a normal person?"

"Normal?" Elphaba asked with a cackle, "really, Nessa, keep up with the times. I've never _been _normal and I never will _be _normal. You and Father can give up. It's a lost cause."

"Fabala—"

"Save it. I have an exam."

Elphaba stalked off, her book under one arm and a fierce scowl on her face. _Really_, she thought, _where in Oz do people get these ridiculous social rules? I just want to spend time with my _friends_ and not be ashamed of it. _

_

* * *

_

Fiyero settled in the chair next to Elphaba only to be met with a glare.

"Can't you just leave me alone?" she hissed.

"Elphie—"

"Take your smiles and perky nicknames somewhere else. I'm not allowed to speak to you," she said, loud enough for Galinda's devotees to hear.

"Really? You're listening to Galinda now?" Fiyero arched an eyebrow at the green girl beside him. She rolled her eyes.

"Not really," Elphaba stage whispered, "but Galinda asked me to minimize the horrificating effect speaking to you had on her reputation. I'm not allowed to speak to you where other people can see."

"Oh. Well, can I sit here if we don't talk?"

"Will people think it's strange?" Elphaba countered.

Fiyero moved.

* * *

"I hear you weren't talking to someone before your exam," Galinda said with a half-smile.

"Well, I was—but I tried to make it look like I wasn't. I guess it worked."

"Yes. Thank you. They all think you're quite goodly now."

"That's your department, my pretty," Elphaba answered, "I'm more wicked than goodly."

"Yes, well, I do try to be very goodly. And everyone says it's very good to see me . . . except, Fiyero didn't think so. Not at the end," Galinda mused.

"I don't think that makes you less goodly. He just wasn't . . . didn't . . .ugh, I don't even know what I'm saying. I don't do pep talks, you know."

"I know."

* * *

Fiyero couldn't remember ever being as frustrated as he was now. As soon as her exam—her only exam for today—ended, Elphaba retreated into her room. It remained a mystery where Galinda was lurking, avoiding her former boyfriend, but if she was with her roommate she was as uncommunicative as the green girl.

"Sweet Oz," Fiyero muttered as he walked back to his dorm, "why couldn't her father have just _told_ her my name?"

Boq, who overheard him, thought the prince had gotten insanified: he broke up with Galinda and was, now, muttering about another girl.


	6. What I Never Could Say

_AN: confession time—I haven't read the book. I'm making up Vinkan traditions and power structures as I go. Sorry if it feels odd. I wrote an extra-long chapter to make up for it. _

_

* * *

_

The week was, indeed, short for Fiyero Tiggular. Between showing up for all his exams—a first, but it wouldn't do to disappoint Elphaba eight weeks before their wedding—and hunting for his camouflaged fiancée, he barely had time to eat or sleep properly. Elphaba was as elusive as the morning mist. Galinda, the only girl who might find her roommate, was _still_ avoiding her ex-boyfriend. Nessa was next to no help. She just smiled smugly and asked why Fiyero wanted to find a betrothed girl. No answer was good enough.

All in all, Fiyero saw Elphaba four times. Three of them were in the very crowded café, where—he discovered—he was not allowed to talk to her. The first time he approached her was a disaster . . .

"Hello, Elphaba," he greeted the green girl.

"Go away, Fiyero. You're not allowed to speak to me," she said for the benefit of the crowd, and added quietly: "don't approach me in public places. Glin will have a fit, and I need her now."

Elphaba bit her lip, and in that innocent gesture Fiyero saw all the agony she held inside, the fear, the overwhelming need for a friend that led her to admit she wasn't strong enough to handle everything. It was beautiful.

"What you need is someone to explain—"

"Explain what? That marriage to a man my father picked won't be miserable? That my husband won't hate me because of this—this colouring I have?"

"Yes. Exactly. I can—"

"You know _nothing_ of this, Fiyero."

Elphaba marched away and threw Fiyero a glance that dared him to follow . . . if he wanted to feel the heat of her barely-controlled anger. Suffering incineration, mutilation, or liquidation (all of which Elphaba was probably capable in her current temper, with her powers) was not on Fiyero's to-do list for finals. He didn't follow her.

Fiyero sought Elphaba one time outside of the public eye. He'd seen a flash of green and black enter the library, but the library was a very large place for a very quiet girl to hide. Maybe she was using cloaking magic, though Fiyero wasn't sure she knew how. Maybe she was just very used to avoiding difficult confrontations. Either way, the frustrated prince never found her.

* * *

Elphaba was very concentrated on passing her exams and avoiding Fiyero. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend time with him—her friend, her maybe-something-more—it was that he wouldn't shun the subject of her looming wedding. Elphaba wanted to spend a few quiet moments with Fiyero, to allow her secret wishes to die peacefully, but he wouldn't let her. He kept trying to console her. What did he know? He'd never been married. His fiancée—since birth—had been executed for treason a year ago. He'd never even met her before the day she died. But, surely, that was easier than going through with an unwanted marriage to a spouse who would view one as ugly. Elphaba, as opposed as she was to unnecessary death, envied the prince. He was free. She was fettered. If they had both been free . . . but wishing only wounds the heart.

* * *

It was Thursday night, and Fiyero felt like the clock was ticking down to his execution. If he didn't find Elphaba, explain to her, he would surely be incinerated the week before their wedding. According to tradition, she would arrive a full seven days before the blessed day of marriage; this would give her time to settle herself in the suite they would share and to learn a little about her husband. Fiyero knew his parents well enough to guess they weren't going to abolish tradition just because Elphaba and Fiyero had already met. That would give Elphaba a week to murder him for not telling her what he knew. Unless, of course, she waited until their wedding night . . . the thought of sharing everything with his enchanting Elphaba—he already thought of her as his; he had for a long time now—sent shivers through Fiyero.

Fiyero was sitting by his window, head in his hands, when he remembered a moment he'd shared with Elphaba just before their success in Dr. Dillamond's lab . . .

_Elphaba sat in the library, her head bent over a leather journal, her hair brushing the pages. Fiyero watched her, captivated by that hair. He wanted nothing more than to touch it—and that surprised him. He'd never felt that way about a girl's hair before, not even about Galinda's bouncy curls. _

"_What are you writing?" he asked, finally. _

"_Everything and nothing," Elphaba answered with a half-smile, "I'll write what I never could say." _

"I'll write what I never could say," Fiyero whispered to the window.

He snatched a piece of parchment and pen from his desk and began to scribble:

_My dearest Elphaba—_

_Please read this through before you judge. I've been trying to find you—alone—since I broke up with Galinda, but you never let me finish what I wanted to say. First off: I love you. I don't know how long it's been, or how long I've known. I was always looking for ways to be around you. At first I thought it was just your company I craved, but then it became something more . . . you are beautiful to me. _

_I was with Galinda, though, so I didn't talk to you. It seemed like Galinda and I were supposed to be together, if only to please the tabloids (don't judge yet, darling)._

_A day or so before you received the letter from your father, telling of your impending marriage, I received one from my parents—telling of mine. Unlike your father, they named my bride-to-be: Miss Elphaba Thropp of Munchkinland. _

_At first I couldn't tell you because I hadn't broken up with Galinda. Then, when I did break it off with her I couldn't tell her the truth because I hadn't explained things to you. I don't know why I didn't just sit you both down and tell you. It feels like I should have. Maybe I really am brainless. _

_I really, honestly tried to tell you in person . . . and when I'd lost all hope of finding you, I remembered something you told me. You said _"I'll write what I never could say"_ and so I knew you would accept this in writing, since I never could find a chance to say it. Please try to understand. _

_Love, _

_Fiyero _

_P.S. Meet me in the library at noon. _

He sealed the note, wrote Elphaba's name on the front, and slept peacefully for the first time in a week. Tomorrow, Elphaba would know. Saturday, he would return to the Vinkus and wait for her; she would come in seven weeks. He could handle seven weeks without seeing her smile, couldn't he?


	7. Where Is She?

It was eight o'clock before Fiyero tucked his letter under Elphaba's door. He was confident that she would find it; she had spent uncountable hours in her room over the last week. Surely she was there, or would be there soon.

Fiyero was mildly alarmed when he didn't see Nessa at breakfast—he usually did—but decided she must have had an early exam; he hated early exams and generally skipped anything before noon. Today, though, he had an important meeting at noon. _Elphaba. Elphaba. Elphaba,_ his heart sang. He wondered if she would let him kiss her again. Their kiss had been brief, chaste, but very sweet. Fiyero wanted more.

--

Galinda stepped out of the shower at precisely eight o'clock. She had a long day ahead of her: she had to pack. It was a daunting task, and she wholeheartedly wished Elphaba were there to comment and laugh and tease. Elphaba would make the time go faster.

It was nine o'clock before Galinda found the letter shoved under her door. She grinned and flipped it over—only to see familiar handwriting, and a familiar name: Elphaba. What would Fiyero want with Elphie? Galinda chewed her lip—a habit she'd picked up from her green roommate—and sighed. Opening other people's mail was decidedly _ungoodly_, but really . . . who would blame her?

She skimmed the page, a furious blush rising and threatening to burn away her carefully-applied makeup. Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands had never in her life been so angry. Her ex-boyfriend was _marrying_ her roommate! Surely nothing like this had ever happened to a pretty girl before. A small, decidedly Elphie-ish voice in the back of Galinda's head suggested that it wasn't entirely Fiyero's fault, and that Elphaba was definitely not to blame. But Fiyero had lied, and Galinda was certain she would never forgive him.

It was a simple choice, really, to go to the library at noon and tell Fiyero exactly what she thought of him.

--

Fiyero paced through the dusty stacks in the library. It was three minutes past noon, and it was very unlike Elphaba to be late. What if she was angry? What if she wasn't coming? What if she'd run away rather than marry—

"You have no soul."

Fiyero knew that voice, and it wasn't the one he wanted to hear.

"Probable. What are you doing here, Glin?" Fiyero answered with a forced smile.

"I want to know what the hell this is," Galinda announced, thrusting Fiyero's letter in his face. Fiyero winced. Galinda only swore when she was drunk or dangerously angry. It was strange how Elphaba's anger—likely to result in scorching or fireworks or a massive thunderstorm—was less frightening than the anger of this tiny blonde. Maybe it was because Elphaba would kill you; Galinda just left you feeling miserable for hurting something as adorable and cuddly as she was.

"Didn't your Ama ever teach you that it's inappropriate to read other people's letters?" he asked.

"Answer me," Galinda countered, narrowing her heavily-made-up eyes in an attempt to be menacing.

"Elphaba's tricks don't suit you," Fiyero commented, "and that, since you asked _so_ nicely, is a letter to my fiancée. Where is she?"

"She went home at sunrise. Why didn't you tell me you were . . . she was . . . you know?"

"I'm so sorry, Galinda. I just . . . couldn't. Not without telling her first. She should've known when I did. Her father . . . someone . . . should have taken the time to tell her. When I tried, she just snapped at me. What was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know. Do you really love her, or were all your fancy words to make her feel better?"

Fiyero took Galinda's hands in his. "I'm sorry, Glin. I can't make this easier for you . . . yes, I really love Elphaba."

Galinda sighed and pulled her hands out of Fiyero's.

"It makes sense, you know. I always thought we were perfect together . . . but we're too _much_ together. You need someone to balance you out. I guess I do, too, but I haven't found him yet."

"That was really . . . wise, Galinda."

"Thanks," she whispered with a half smile. She leaned forward and kissed Fiyero lightly. "Goodbye, Fifi. I'll see you at your wedding."

"Goodbye, Glin. I'm sorry it had to be like this."

"So am I," she breathed, so softly Fiyero was never sure if he heard her at all.


	8. Who Knew?

Time dragged for Fiyero, blurred for Galinda, and marched like a drum before execution for Elphaba.

Fiyero spent as much time as was bearable in the library, learning things—hoping, perhaps, to impress his bride into not hating him. He wrote innumerable letters to Elphaba, none of which he sent. He attended meetings and councils, which were as boring as lectures and exams at Shiz. In short, Fiyero was trying to act like an adult and it was a difficult transition.

Galinda counted down the days—of shopping and dress-designing and magazine-reading—until her visit to Elphaba. Three weeks was not a very long time, but Galinda felt Fiyero's loss more keenly now that she knew he loved her old roommate; it was hard knowing that Fiyero and Elphaba would be happy (they _would_ be happy, Galinda insisted on it) and that she would be alone.

Elphaba had forgotten the charms of Munchkinland. There were lonely walks—miles and miles of cornfields, where she could blend in and lose herself. She spent hours reading outside, lying between the rows of corn and letting the growing stalks shelter her from sunlight. She doubted she would ever return to Munchkinland, and she certainly would not return to the innocence of her unmarried self. It would be hard, she thought, to live with someone who loathed you for your skin color—who, perhaps, was not even attracted to you. Surely, her husband had been imagining a Galinda-ish bride. Certainly no one wanted to marry the green freak.

* * *

Elphaba and Galinda were caught in a tight hug, both crying. Who knew Elphaba could feel so much, express so much? Galinda hoped this openness Elphie had developed in the agony of her arranged engagement would remain once she learned the truth. Elphaba never thought she could miss her flighty roommate as much as she had missed Galinda. She hadn't thought she could miss anyone—except Fiyero, the one boy she'd wanted, the boy she'd never have—as much as she had missed Galinda.

* * *

Fiyero watched the sunset. Galinda was scheduled to arrive in Munchkinland today. She would tell Elphaba—and the world would implode, or explode, or keep turning. He didn't know. Fiyero barely knew what Elphaba thought of him; he was afraid, suddenly, that she would be as upset by Galinda's information as she would have been to marry a stranger.

* * *

"Elphie, darlingest, there's something I have to tell you . . ." Galinda said. She was lying on her stomach on Elphaba's bed, a cup of spicy tea in her hands and a half-eaten cookie in front of her. Elphaba was curled in the corner of the bed, her back against the wall.

"Go on, then," Elphaba prompted, taking a sip of her tea.

"Don't be angry with me, dearest. It's just, you shouldn't have to read this like he thought. It isn't fair to you."

"What shouldn't I have to read?" Elphaba was genuinely concerned now. Her voice shook a little.

"You know, your fiancé is from the Vinkus. Arjiki royalty."

"Wait . . . you're saying I'm going to . . . Glin, is this some kind of joke?"

"No, Elphie. You're going to marry Fiyero—"

The air grew heavier and Galinda listened intently as Elphaba struggled to breathe—to calm herself. Little streaks of blue lightning crackled around the green girl for a full thirty clock-ticks. Slowly, the light subsided and the air lightened and Elphaba's breathing returned to a normal pace.

"You were saying?" the green girl asked, as if nothing had happened.

"We don't know what happened, exactly, but somehow your father and Fiyero's parents decided you'd be a good match. It's confusifying, because Fiyero's parents knew about _me_, but . . . anyway, Fiyero's known for ages and ages, but he didn't want to tell me before he told you and you wouldn't listen and everything got out of hand and—"

"I'm going to _kill_ him," Elphaba announced.

"No. You're _not,_" Galinda countered.

"Watch me."

"Elphie, please—it's not his fault. He wrote you a letter and I read it, and that's why I know . . . he told me to give it to you, but I thought someone should tell you first. Here!"

Elphaba's hands shook as she unfolded the wrinkled parchment Galinda produced. She read the familiar handwriting several times over before she whispered: "Sweet Oz, this can't be happening."

"Are you . . . angry now?" Galinda asked.

Elphaba shook her head and raised her hand to wipe her eyes. "No, Glin . . . I think I'm happy. It's just so, so much. I was all prepared to have my husband hate me, and here he is saying he l—loves me."

Galinda grinned triumphantly. It was good that Elphie knew. In her heart, there was a little twinge of regret that _she_, Galinda Upland, was not engaged to Fiyero . . . but this felt somehow like it fit, like a puzzle piece that has been missing for a long time while Galinda and her friends tried to make the right piece fit.

* * *

The world did not implode. Fiyero watched the moonrise and finally fell asleep as it began to wane. Elphaba might not love him, but at least no natural disasters had occurred when she found out she was engaged to him. He could be content with that—for now. More would come in time. Fiyero didn't pause to examine his new patience, but those around him had begun to see a definite change in him. After that tense night of waiting for his life to end, Fiyero was changed for good. Most people said he was changed for the better.

* * *

It seemed like a billion clock-ticks until the week Elphaba would arrive in the Vinkus. Fiyero had little handle on the actual number of days and described it merely as "too long"; Galinda was horrified because it wasn't long enough to have all the proper clothes made and Elphaba didn't care; Elphaba checked each day off—very neatly—in her pocket calendar. Time passes, albeit slowly, when one is looking forward to a blessed event such as a wedding. Time passed for the three eager Shiz students.

"It has been three weeks and two days since you came, Glin," Elphaba announced one day, "tomorrow we leave for the Vinkus."

"It seems . . . impossible, doesn't it?" Galinda asked.

Elphaba sighed, "It seems impossible that I might actually be happy about my own wedding . . . but I am, and yes, it seems impossible that it is less than two weeks away."

"It's been a good summer, and I'm _still_ going to miss rooming with you."

"You'll finally have that private suit you wanted," Elphaba retorted.

"Precisely. I'm making them leave the extra bed—you simply _have_ to sleep over sometimes."

Elphaba rolled her eyes, "why did I know you were going to say that?"

"Because you know you want to stay with me," Galinda answered sweetly, "and anyway, I refuse to let you be so occupied by my ex-boyfriend that you ignore me."

"Maybe married life won't be such a charm and we'll hate each other by next term. Then I'll move in with you."

"Don't jinx it! You'll have a wonderful life!"

"I'm sure," was the green girl's only reply. Galinda wasn't sure if Elphaba intended sarcasm or seriousness; the blonde favored seriousness.


	9. Jitters and Preparation

"I thought you were happy . . ." Galinda commented.

Elphaba, who had been staring morosely out the carriage window, glanced at her friend.

"I am," the green girl replied.

"Funny way of showing it. I'd be excitified and bouncing! Oz, I _am_ bouncing and last time I checked I was supposed to be upset. He _was_ my boyfriend after all."

Elphaba sighed. "It just can't last, that's all."

"Why _not_? You have your fairytale ending, your perfect finale. You get happy-ever-after!"

"No, Glin. I don't. I get happy-for-now, miserable-later."

"Come on, Elphie! You _promised_ you wouldn't do this!"

"I can't help it my pretty. Things just don't work out for me; I don't get happy endings. That's your department."

"It could be yours, if you'd let it."

Elphaba rolled her eyes and returned to staring out the carriage window.

* * *

Fiyero paced the grand hall. Tradition technically required him to wait in the throne room, but his marriage to Elphaba—arranged though it may have been—was hardly traditional. It had been seven weeks and one day since he'd seen her, and he wanted her _now_.

"She should have been here by now," he hissed, exasperated.

"I'm sure she's fine, dear," his mother answered, even though he hadn't wanted an answer, "there is no real way to time a carriage ride. Just because _you_ would have driven like Kumbrica and been here yesterday doesn't mean Miss Thropp will."

"Unfortunately," Fiyero answered.

* * *

It was almost dusk when Elphaba and Galinda arrived at Fiyero's home. The prince—defying tradition—dashed out to greet them. Galinda descended from the carriage first, and he kissed her hand before reaching for Elphaba. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. Elphaba leaned her head against his chest.

"I've missed you," Fiyero whispered.

"I've missed you, too," his fiancée answered.

"Come—meet my parents."

* * *

Neither Elphaba nor Fiyero remembered much about the week of preparations. There were a few stolen kisses, but mostly Galinda was with them and they respected her too much to force their love on her. Elphaba had never spent so many hours being fitted for appropriate clothing; Fiyero felt like he was back at Shiz that last week—always searching for Elphaba, rarely finding her. Fortunately, when he succeeded in finding her, she was friendlier than she'd been that last week.

"You get married tomorrow," Galinda announced one night, as she flounced into Elphaba's room with cups of cocoa.

"I know—I can't believe it," Elphaba answered, accepting the cocoa from her friend.

"Neither can I, really," Galinda whispered.

"I'm sorry, Glin. You know I didn't want to steal your happy ending."

"I know, darlingest. I'm sad, but I don't think I could have stood in the way of this anyway. Somehow, I feel like you two would've found a way to be together, even if it was behind my back."

Elphaba smiled. "It's hard to admit . . . but I think you're right."

"So," Galinda said, "we all agree that it's better this way—even if it hurts."

"I suppose so," Elphaba answered, hugging her friend.


	10. Objection

_AN: this didn't turn out the way I intended—the story progressed faster than I planned—so I hope it doesn't feel rushed. _

_

* * *

_

"It's white, and it's sleeveless," Elphaba hissed, glaring at her bubbly friend.

"Of _course_ it's white Elphie! It's a wedding, not a funeral!"

"Glin, I do. not. wear. white. and I will _not_ wear that."

Elphaba rummaged through her trunk—the only one she'd brought, to Galinda's horror—and produced a dress of midnight blue silk.

"This was my mother's. I'll wear this."

"Elphaba—"

"Don't tell me I can't! It's my wedding, and I wear this or I don't go out _there_."

"Fiyero's waiting," Galinda tried.

"Yes, and he'll hate me as soon as he sees me in white. I'm 'phosphorescent' in pale colors."

"Aw, Elphie! Don't bring up horrificified memories like that! People didn't know you yet."

"Like that made a difference," Elphaba muttered, "Anyway, I won't wear white."

* * *

An hour later, Elphaba strode up the aisle on her father's arm. It was the first time she remembered him touching her, gently. He had reprimanded her, dragged her away before she could make a spectacle, but never touched her like this. They were both stiff and uncomfortable.

Elphaba wore her mother's dress with a white, Galindafied veil draped across her face.

The guests looked confused. Brides wore white. No one in the Vinkus had ever defied that tradition before. What kind of wife had their rulers selected for Prince Fiyero?

Fiyero's parents looked horrified. The girl was green and outspoken—they'd known that—but she was wearing _blue_. It simply wasn't done.

"Sweet Oz," Fiyero's mother whispered "what have we done?"

The queen did not make a spectacle of herself; years ruling the Vinkus had taught her to bide her time and make her wishes known at the perfect moment.

"If any present object to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace," the minister droned.

Fiyero's mother stood.

"I object," she announced.

Elphaba whirled to run, tears running through her makeup and mascara dripping onto her veil. Fiyero wrapped his arms around her and held her against his chest, as he had done once before. He rested his forehead on her hair and listened to his mother address the crowd:

"Someone strongly suggested that we choose Miss Elphaba as our son's future consort. That particular person failed to mention Miss Elphaba's unique coloring, but I speak for my husband and myself when I say we were prepared to accept an untraditional Princess. Prince Fiyero seemed content with our choice, as you see—he is fond of the girl. Since she arrived, however, Miss Elphaba has been outspoken and defied our traditions. We cannot accept a Princess with no respect for the Vinkus."

"Mother—" Fiyero interjected.

"Shh," Elphaba whispered, "it'll be alright. Don't fight this. I'm not made for happily-ever-after. I didn't really expect us to last."

Elphaba had intended her words for Fiyero alone, but Galinda heard. She squared her shoulders and stepped forward.

"Madame," Galinda said, curtsying to Fiyero's mother "may I speak?"

The queen nodded.

Galinda turned to face the guests. "I am proud to introduce myself as Elphaba's best friend and roommate. When Prince Fiyero first came to Shiz, Elphaba was hated for something over which she has no control: her skin. I was in love with Prince Fiyero's title. We kept company together, and I foolishly assumed he would marry me. I was hurt and angry when his engagement was announced. I felt betrayed. But it didn't take much to realize Elphie and Fiyero adore each other. I recently told Elphie that, though I'm a little sad, this marriage will change everything for the better. If you stop this you may gain a conventional Princess—but you will not gain the happiness of your Prince. You will sentence him to misery with a woman he does not love, and I fail to see how a miserable someday-King will benefit the Vinkus."

Elphaba wrapped her arms around her best friend.

"Thank you," she whispered, "and that was really good, by the way. You should speak more often."

"Thanks," Galinda replied with a shaky smile.

Fiyero's arms felt oddly empty without Elphaba in them.

"Mother," he said, "Galinda is right. I'm sorry to say that, if she hadn't spoken up, I probably wouldn't have. But Elphaba means everything to me. I will marry her. If you don't like it, you can disown me."

"Sweet Oz," Elphaba breathed, "everyone is standing up for me today."

"See," Galinda murmured, "I told you that you deserved a happy ending."

"Fine, marry her if you must," the queen told her son, "We'll discuss this later."

"Shall we?" Fiyero asked, wrapping his strong fingers around Elphaba's green ones.

They stood before the minister with their fingers twined together and Elphaba's head resting on Fiyero's shoulder.

Galinda wrapped her arm around Elphaba's waist and Elphaba draped her free arm around Galinda. It was the least traditional wedding the Vinkus had ever seen: a bride in blue, an objection from the queen defied, and three best friends supporting each other through it all.

"I love you," Fiyero told his bride before he kissed her.

"This is the stuff of fairytales," Elphaba whispered, twisting the ring on her finger.

"This is a real happy ending," Galinda added.

The girls hugged and the happy couple slipped away—leaving confusified guests and a horrificified queen. It was Galinda who toasted the absent bride and groom, who bounced through the celebration, bringing life and laughter to the hesitant guests. She hid her own uncertainty beneath a bright smile. Galinda knew she had done the right thing, giving Elphaba her happy ending, but the blonde understood that she had turned her back on the girl she used to be: her flighty, Society self had melted and left only a façade for a reluctantly maturing woman to hide behind.


	11. Perfect Finale

_AN: I'm giving you a short, sweet ending. I originally wrote this finale in a much fluffier, lighter way and structured the rest of the story to explain this scene. However, when I reread it prior to posting it, I realized the rest of the story had taken a dramatic turn I didn't intend and I redid this scene to suit._

_

* * *

_

_Three years later _

_(One year post graduation)_

_

* * *

_

Fiyero wrapped his arms around his wife.

"Come away from that crystal ball, sweetheart," he teased, "you're always staring at it."

"You know you enjoy firsthand news," Elphaba replied, leaning against her husband's chest, "look at Glinda—she's wonderful. She can charm those old idiots into doing anything she wants. She's even making headway on the Animal banns."

"Tell me, witchy wife o' mine," Fiyero murmured, running his fingers through Elphaba's hair, "do you ever wonder what would have happened if our marriage hadn't forced us to face our fears and our love?"

"Look . . ." Elphaba said motioning toward the crystal ball. She closed her eyes and began to chant:

_A__pa, tunjukkan saya di masa lalu kini masa dan semuanya jika diatur belum . . . _

"I won't be able to see," Fiyero objected.

Elphaba covered his hands with hers. "Yes you will. You just have to be touching me. Unless you have a problem with touching the green girl?"

"Never."

"Watch, then."

_The crystal ball showed them together, freeing a caged Lion cub and avoiding admitting their love. It showed Elphaba receiving a summons from the Wizard, journeying to the Emerald City . . . _

"Sweet Oz," Fiyero whispered, tightening his hold on his wife, "don't ever do that."

_They saw Elphaba flying high, defying gravity on a broomstick—rescuing Animals. She was visiting Nessa and . . ._

"Oh, Oz," Elphaba swore, "I can't believe I would have turned Boq into tin!"

"Look—I left Glinda for you, in the end. She was right when she said nothing could keep us apart . . . not even the Wizard."

"Nessa!" Elphaba cried, staring at the crystal ball.

"Shh, sweetheart. It's only the would-have-been," Fiyero breathed.

"Fiyero?" Elphaba said "It feels so real—look. I would have had to fake my own death just to get away from all of them. And you would have been a Scarecrow!"

"I like this way better," Fiyero said, kissing Elphaba's hair.

"Glinda was right when she said our marriage changed everything for the better."


End file.
